The Last Straw: Sirius's POV
by ravenclawmeg
Summary: Sister story to The Last Straw. Sirius is taking care of a very sick Harry in his new home, and he remembers rescuing his godson from the Dursley's. **THIS FIC IS DEAD.**
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or anyone associated with him except for Dr. Nora Tallahand. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I'm just using them to amuse myself, without making any money. No infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: For those of you who haven't read The Last Straw, don't worry. You don't really have to in order to understand this story. For those of you who have, it's a sequel/sister story. The whole thing is from Sirius's point of view; as he cares for Harry in their new home he looks back on the time when he rescued his godson from the Dursley's and how ill he'd been those following few days.  
  
On with the story:  
  
There was only one disturbance in the warm and welcoming atmosphere of Sirius's mansion that first night. He didn't mind having woken up to it; his peaceful contentment with the freedom to live in his old home with his godson overrode the slight displeasure of awakening at whatever ungodly hour it may be.  
  
Silence for a moment. Sirius let the corners of his mouth twitch upward as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the thick wrinkles in the black canopy above him ever so gradually coming into view.  
  
Sirius sat up in bed when the terrible coughing began again. *Poor kid, * he thought morosely as he listened to its deep intensity ~ it hurt just to hear it.  
  
He stood up and lit the candle on his bedside table with his wand. The light sent faint, ghostly shadows dancing across the walls and around the furniture. He followed the yellow path it laid down for him to the bathroom, where he opened the cupboard to retrieve a bottle of lavender potion and a small goblet.  
  
The sound hesitated for a second as Sirius crept silently down the carpeted hall. Harry's room was only two doors down from his own; Sirius had chosen this room for Harry knowing that their being close together would soothe his worries at night and make his job taking care of his sick godson much easier.  
  
Harry began to cough again just before Sirius reached his door. Opening it made the sound much clearer and caused Sirius to flinch at how painful it sounded. He set the candle on Harry's nightstand and drew the curtains of his four-poster slowly, so as to avoid startling him.  
  
The poor boy was curled up into a tight ball ~ his pale face facing Sirius ~ under a single white sheet. It looked as though he had thrown his other blankets to the end of the bed during the night. He shivered between each deep cough and groaned hoarsely when the awful fit finally stopped.  
  
Sirius set down the bottle and goblet and spread the discarded quilts over Harry's shaking body. His godson turned his face carefully upward and let his tired green eyes focus on the man standing above him.  
  
"Sirius?" Harry rasped. Sirius nodded.  
  
"Here," he said quietly as he poured some of the lavender potion into the goblet, "This will help with your cough." Sirius carefully helped the poor teenager sit up, letting Harry rest against him in his arms as he slipped the goblet between his godson's chapped lips. Harry felt unnaturally warm even through his pajamas; after Sirius had set him back down he checked the wristband the boy wore for his temperature.  
  
"Was I keeping you awake?" Harry whispered weakly.  
  
"No," lied Sirius gently, pushing Harry's damp bangs off of his fevered forehead. He knew most fifteen-year-old boys would resist this kind of childish treatment, but in Harry's case he had been deprived of affection for nearly fourteen years, and his illness put him in great need of someone to care for him, even if like a child.  
  
Harry's eyelids began to droop, and Sirius smiled. After Harry had fallen asleep Sirius found himself reminded of that night he had found the poor boy lying in a similar way on the floor of the Dursley's living room.  
  
The Dursleys. Sirius had to smile. He wondered if they regretted their harsh treatment of their nephew yet. He found himself unable to care. They'd deserved what he'd given them. Just wait until he told Harry.  
  
Sirius stood watching over his godson, letting himself slip into the dream-like memories.  
  
It was Tamerin's return with empty talons that had sparked his alarm. He'd been worrying about Harry all summer, but the fact that Tamerin had no letter when Sirius had requested a reply in his birthday card to Harry struck a nerve. Harry wouldn't have thrown away the opportunity to talk to his godfather like that, would he?  
  
After two days of pacing around Lupin's living room, looking for but not expecting Hedwig to come through the window, Sirius finally decided that he would take the risk and go to the Dursley's himself to find his godson. He knew Remus would agree to it, as the other man had been almost as concerned as he had. They arranged to have Sirius leave for Privet Drive on Buckbeak in the morning ~ if he tried to apparate the ministry would be able to find him ~ and hopefully arrive by around eleven o'clock that night. Remus would apparate into the woods behind the Dursley's house at that time, and they would meet to decide on what action to take next.  
  
Tamerin's round-trip journey had taken roughly four days, so they planned on Buckbeak being able to manage the ride over in one. They were right. Sirius's mind never once left his godson as they flew; his thoughts seemed to urge his Hippogriff to fly faster, and they found themselves over Harry's neighborhood twenty minutes ahead of schedule.  
  
Sirius tethered Buckbeak to a tree, and with a soft "I'll be back soon," left him there to graze contentedly. He approached the Dursley house through the woods as a silent, black dog, snapping to attention immediately upon hearing noises.  
  
They came from the front yard. Sirius crept forward with the stealth that only a Marauder knew, and found cover in some bushes on the lawn. Had he been human he would have gasped aloud at what he saw.  
  
Harry lay on his back, clothed in his black cloak, on the damp lawn. He held the tiny owl Sirius remembered giving to Ron in a hand that was shaking so hard Sirius's canine eyes noticed it from where he was positioned.  
  
The outrage brewing in Sirius's veins had not time to register, for it was at that moment that none other than Vernon Dursley chose to storm out the front door with a crash certain to wake the neighbors. Harry's uncle didn't seem to care. Pigwidgeon flew away, shrieking, as the burly man grabbed Harry by his shoulders and practically dragged the weakened teenager up the front steps into the house.  
  
At first Sirius thought Harry's eyes to be closed, but he caught a glimpse of Harry's face for an instant before they disappeared inside. Their eyes met ~ had Harry seen him? ~ and the illness-dampened fear in the young wizard's eyes sparked a rage like nothing Sirius had felt in years.  
  
Luckily his anger did not blind him to caution enough that he transform right there in the open, but he thought nothing of bounding to just outside the bay window, a strange black dog no one had seen before in perfect view of every house on the block.  
  
Harry's uncle, his purple face contorted with fury, raised a brown, knobbly stick over his head and bellowed something even Sirius's keen dog ears were unable to catch. He froze for a moment; his anger coupled with the fear for his godson grabbed him with strong arms and wouldn't let his move while he watched Vernon strike the Boy-Who-Lived on the temple.  
  
Harry's glasses broke and slid off from the impact, and Sirius was jerked from his temporary paralysis. He bared his teeth in a frightening way and let the cool glass meet his thick paws. The window shattered ~ Vernon was too blinded by his anger to notice ~ as the bear-like dog leapt through to the Dursley's living room. Petunia, having crept downstairs upon hearing the commotion that was Vernon and his nephew, shrieked when she saw what her husband hadn't.  
  
It wasn't until Vernon had smacked his nephew on the forehead a second time and Harry had fallen to the floor that the sturdy man noticed Sirius ~ or, rather, the black dog standing in his living room.  
  
With one fluid motion, Sirius bounded across the room and pinned the man who was not nearly worthy to be called Harry's uncle to the floor. His white teeth bared menacingly just inches from Vernon's face, which by now had been completely drained of all color. His wife and son clung to each other at the foot of the stairs, Petunia too frightened to speak and Dudley howling like some sort of sick cow.  
  
Sirius grasped the stick in his jaw and with neck muscles like liquid steel, flung it through the shattered window. Though his paws were nowhere near Vernon's throat, the beefy man gaped at the huge canine as though unable to breathe.  
  
"Leave them to me, Sirius," said a voice behind him, "You tend to Harry."  
  
Harry. Sirius felt a twinge of guilt at neglecting to tend to his godson; he'd been too preoccupied with the boy's pseudo family. He turned his shaggy head to see Arthur Weasley in the doorway, wand out and pointed straight ahead of him, and immediately backed off of the petrified muggle and transformed. All three of the Dursley's cried out in shock.  
  
"Meant to come sooner," said Arthur, not at all his usual, jovial self, "Something came up at work and I couldn't leave until just now."  
  
Sirius nodded and in a flash was kneeling at Harry's side. He didn't catch what Arthur was saying to the Dursleys, only noticed the sharp tone of barely controlled anger.  
  
Harry's face was white as the moon. His lips were slightly parted and shaky rasps of breath emitted from his throat. His chest rose upward with every labored breath he took, but other than that the boy was motionless.  
  
"Harry," Sirius placed his hands on the unconscious boy's shoulders and begged him in a whisper, "Harry, wake up. Come now, Harry. Speak to me. Say something. Wake up, please." He tapped Harry's cheeks hard and noticed how warm they were. He placed a hand on the boy's pale forehead.  
  
"He's burning up," Sirius said in a shaky voice.  
  
"We'll need to get him to a doctor," said Remus from behind him. Sirius did not turn around.  
  
"Nora," he said quietly, "We've got to contact Nora."  
  
"Take Harry into the backyard," Remus replied affirmatively, "Arthur and I will meet you there."  
  
Sirius nodded and eased the boy gently into his arms. He did not trust himself to look back as he stepped out the front door, Harry curled up in his embrace. 


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter and everything associated with him, I would be sitting in a lawn chair, by my own in-ground pool, beside my mansion, sipping iced tea served by a butler named McPhearson. But I don't. That honor goes to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros., so I just use them for my own fun. I am not making any money off of this. No infringement is intended.  
  
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Sirius set his shivering godson on the cool grass with only the utmost tenderness, taking great care to support the boy's head and keep Harry's glasses safe in his hand.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry," he whispered, gently brushing the sweaty black bangs aside and revealing a scar against his stark white forehead. "I should have come for you sooner." The boy didn't move. His breathing was still ragged and slightly congested; it sounded as though the boy had to fight for air.  
  
"Oh, Harry," Sirius was unable to keep the tears from blurring his vision, "What did they do to you?"  
  
The soft footsteps behind him caught his attention, but Sirius did not remove his gaze from his godson.  
  
"How is he?" asked Arthur.  
  
Sirius shook his head slowly, "He's burning up with fever, and I can't wake him up."  
  
"Here," said the tall, red-haired man gently, "We can take him to my house. Molly and Ron-"  
  
"No!" said Sirius fiercely. He caught himself and continued in a quieter, barely controlled tone. "It's nothing against your family, Arthur. I just want to stay with him. I haven't been there for him all summer and look what happened. You can't ask me to leave him now."  
  
"But look at the boy, Sirius. He needs a doctor."  
  
"We can provide him that," replied Remus. "Do you know of a woman named Dr. Nora Tallahand?"  
  
"I'm sure I've heard the name somewhere, but no. I don't think we've met."  
  
"She was a Gryffindor in our year. Slept in the same dorm as Lily for seven years. She was the first girl to find out about the Marauders if I remember right; helped us out on more than one occasion. She'll be more than willing to help Harry, I can promise you that."  
  
Arthur's brow knitted in confusion at the word 'Marauder,' but as they had more pressing matters on hand he chose not to inquire.  
  
Harry's face suddenly twitched and ever so slightly shifted on the grass. He let out a raspy moan that automatically caught the three men's attention. Sirius felt his heart jump into his throat.  
  
"Is he waking up?" whispered Arthur.  
  
"I think so," replied Remus.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius whispered softly, "Harry, can you hear me?" He wanted to reach out and carry the poor boy to somewhere where he'd be safer but didn't dare touch him. Harry looked so uncomfortable; Sirius didn't want to do anything to hurt him more.  
  
Harry groaned again and began to cough, deep, congested coughs that sounded painful enough to make all three men flinch in unison. Sirius closed his eyes in anguish. He could almost feel the pain as if it were his own. That coupled with the regret of forsaking his duty as a godfather by not being there when Harry needed him most was almost too much to bear.  
  
He pushed Harry's bangs off his face and let his hand rest upon the boy's hot forehead. Harry jerked his head away and Sirius quickly took back his hand. Had he hurt him? Sirius would never forgive himself ~ or the Dursley's for that matter ~ if something happened to that poor boy.  
  
Arthur stooped over and picked a pebble off the damp lawn. A little wand-work on his part, and it was suddenly an empty glass. He allowed a stream of clear liquid to flow from the end of his wand into the glass before holding it out.  
  
"Here," he said to Sirius, "Give him this."  
  
"What is it?" asked Remus.  
  
"It's just water."  
  
Sirius waited a moment for illness-stricken boy to stop coughing before he very carefully helped Harry sit up.  
  
"Here, Harry," he said softly. "Drink this." He let the semi- conscious teenager lean against him and slipped the glass to his mouth. Sirius's heart lifted a bit when Harry began to swallow the water eagerly.  
  
"There you go, Harry," he whispered, "It's going to be all right."  
  
Sirius set Harry back into his former condition on the grass. He wanted to keep Harry in his arms and continue to protect him ~ finally fulfilling his promise to James and making up for all the times he should have been there ~ but the faint sign of expression on his godson's face showed very clearly that he wanted to remain lying down.  
  
"Harry," said Remus, "Don't try to talk. Can you show me where he hit you?"  
  
The boy lifted a trembling hand to his temple.  
  
"Your head?"  
  
He nodded. It seemed to require a lot of effort.  
  
"Anywhere else?"  
  
Harry shook his head slowly, but his face twisted in pain and he groaned again. Sirius inhaled sharply.  
  
"Are you in pain?" asked Remus.  
  
Harry gave a nod so light it was hardly noticeable. Siruis felt his blood grow hot with anger. The Dursleys would pay for this.  
  
"I'll kill him," he growled. "Hit him with his own stick. Teach him to try that again."  
  
"Now, now," said Arthur as he stood, suddenly businesslike, "That's all very well, but as the Ministry only knows I'm here, it will become much more complicated if we harm them now. Right now we need to get Harry out of here."  
  
"Are any more of them on their way?" Remus asked.  
  
"No. I had my son Percy contact them just before I apparated, so they would know in case I need to use magic while I was here. Harry never responded to my youngest son's last letter. Molly's been so worried. We sent him another owl saying I would be arriving tonight. I'm not sure if he got it or not."  
  
"Let me take him, Arthur," Sirius implored, never once taking his eyes off his godson. "I'm his godfather. I have a responsibility for the boy. I'm not going to leave him now." His heart lifted when Harry's chapped lips twisted into a fragile smile.  
  
"Where will you go?" Arthur persisted, "Molly's been almost in tears these past few days-"  
  
"He can come to my place," said Remus, "That's where he's" Remus gestured to his old friend on the ground, "been staying, anyway. Molly and Ron can come visit them anytime they like."  
  
Sirius looked up for the first time. "Molly… knows about me… right?" he asked the man above him carefully.  
  
Arthur nodded. "Yes, she does. She and Ron and I."  
  
"Then that settles it," said Remus briskly. "Sirius, take him on Buckbeak. I'll get his stuff and bring it."  
  
"Do you want help?" asked Arthur.  
  
"Just gathering it, thank you," Remus replied, "I can shrink it and put it in my pocket before I disapparate."  
  
As the two men turned and left for the house, Sirius returned his gaze to the suffering teenager on the ground. "Harry," he said softly, "I'm going to have to lift you. Is that all right?"  
  
The boy's head very slowly moved up and down in a weak nod. His eyelashes fluttered; Sirius felt himself relax when they opened and Harry's green eyes peered feebly into his own.  
  
"It'll be all right," he said soothingly. "We're going to get a doctor for you. An old classmate of ours ~ and your parents. She'll come to Remus's so I can stay by your side the whole time."  
  
Harry smiled again and opened his mouth. The almost incoherent "Thanks" that came out was closely followed by another coughing fit.  
  
Sirius took the boy in his arms ~ marveling unpleasantly at how light he was ~ and held him close.  
  
"Hush, now," he whispered when Harry was silent again, "Don't say anything ~ good lord," he couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he realized how warm Harry was, even through his cloak and pajamas. "You're burning up with fever. Just try to sleep."  
  
He could feel the boy grow limp in his arms as he obeyed. Sirius wasted no time in cutting through the woods to the spot where he had left Buckbeak. Bowing with Harry in his arms was a bit awkward, but Buckbeak seemed to sense the urgency of the situation, for he kept perfectly still as Sirius climbed onto his back. He never once loosened his hold on Harry.  
  
Sirius let his eyes raise to the starry heavens as Buckbeak lifted off the ground.  
  
*I'll take good care of him, James, * he prayed, *I won't let anything happen to him. I promise. *  
  
Harry shivered but did not wake. Sirius held him closer, letting his eyes leave the bright half-moon straight ahead and focus on the very sick boy in his arms.  
  
*I promise. *  
  
A/N: Sorry it took so long. This story will probably take longer to post, but keep checking back for more. I'll try to get the chapters up quickly. (I know one thing that might help… *cough * reviews *cough. *) Not that I'm not grateful for the ones up there, already! They mean SOO much to me! Thanks, everyone! 


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: The only character I own in this story is Dr. Nora Tallahand. Harry Potter and the rest of the characters belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I don't own them. I just write about them for fun. Deal with it. No infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: Wow. I'm sure I say this every time, but getting so many reviews… you have no idea (except if you, like me are an aspiring writer) how much they really mean to me. Please ask any questions if you have them. I will be more than happy to answer them.  
  
I'm not telling: Sorry, I didn't get a chance to respond before, but please, don't be so self-depreciative when you review for me. I assure you, you are not a worm, or you would hardly be able to read and/or type a review for my story. You do not suck. And of course I'm going to write more! You think I would just leave poor Harry in the midst of an illness like that? Yeah, I have my moments but I'm not completely evil.  
  
Lily Potter: I totally agree with you (on the part of Harry being sick and all). I think since people are supposed to feel sorry for Harry anyway, it just kind of adds to it when he's ill, you know what I'm saying? Thank you so much for your compliments; they are very gratifying.  
  
Moon wolf: Will you people PLEASE stop insulting yourselves when you review? You're not stupid ~ a lot of my friends asked me what a temple was. Temples are the two spots on the very sides of your forehead, kind of next to your eyes (not between them ~ do you know where I'm talking about?) and a little above them. Not a place you want to be hit with a Smelting's stick, I assure you.  
  
Sweets: Thank you very much. I'm sorry, I really can't email people right now. I don't have a ton of time on my hands as it is, and posting this story is hard enough. I'm really sorry. You'll just have to keep checking. I try to update every few days or so.  
  
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Nearly every eye lucky enough to cast itself upon the first rays of golden sunlight peaking over Britain's horizon saw them as nothing less than breathtaking as they illuminated the landscape with their magical glow. But to one, who had his mind focused on other dark thoughts, the sunrise was far from beautiful. It would take more than daybreak to distract him from the very ill young teenager whom he held in his arms while they flew.  
  
As the cool night had progressed, Harry's violent shivering had only worsened, though his shaking body became warmer and warmer without relent. Now that dawn had finally begun to break, the new rays of sun cast their warmth upon the fever-chilled boy in a much more effective way than Sirius could while riding Buckbeak.  
  
"Hang in there Harry," Sirius muttered, clutching the boy as close as he could, "We'll get you safe. Just hold on, and we'll get you warm. We'll get you well. Just hang tight; not much farther now."  
  
The sun was giving the hippogriff and it's riders it's full intensity from high above their heads by the time Buckbeak touched down in Lupin's backyard. Harry by that point was no longer shivering; on the contrary, he was sweating profusely, twitching and moaning and shifting around in Sirius' arms without awakening.  
  
Lupin greeted Sirius at the back door to a very small, worn-down brown house. His face was set, and drained completely of color when he saw the condition his former student was in.  
  
"Right in the next room over, Sirius," he said in a shaky tone, "Nora's waiting there."  
  
So were Mrs. Weasley and Ron. Harry's best friend stood against the far wall ~ his face absolutely colorless, save his freckles. His mother held two trembling hands to her mouth, her wide eyes misty and a single tear finding it's way down her cheek. Sirius tried not to look at them.  
  
Sirius didn't even notice Nora ~ whom he hadn't seen since before the Potters died ~ throw back the sheets and make room for Harry to be set down on the soft mattress. He only had eyes to see his godson, flushed with fever and taking husky, ragged breaths.  
  
Sirius forced himself to look away from Nora's face. The last time he had seen her she had been very beautiful indeed ~ though he had never thought of her as anything but a good friend ~ and fourteen years later she was bound to have changed; weather for the better or the worse he didn't know. He didn't want the reunion with an old friend to distract him from his duty as a godfather.  
  
So he instead watched her hands ~ soft and gentle, just as he had remembered them ~ set a black case about two inches in height on the bedsheet next to her newest patient and open the top. She removed a white band from inside and pressed it tightly to Harry's wrist. It immediately began to glow a bluish color and reveal strange black writing Sirius could not hope to understand. It seemed to fasten itself; Sirius looked away when she pulled Harry's hand closer to her face to study the writing.  
  
After setting the boy's glasses on the small table Remus had placed near the head of the bed, Sirius took Harry's other hand in both of his own and lifted it off the bed as gently as he could.  
  
*Please be all right, * he thought desperately, *Please get well, Harry. I couldn't live if I lost you. I'll do better next time, I promise. Just get well. *  
  
He heard Nora exhale sharply ~ the way he remembered her so well for doing ~ and knew with a dark awareness that things would not be so simple.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" he demanded, not daring to remove his gaze from Harry's unopened eyes, "Will he be all right?"  
  
"He has pneumonia," said Nora professionally, completely devoid of emotion, "And a very severe case at that. I'll not lie to any of you; we have one very ill young man on our hands right now. He's going to need all the care we can give him."  
  
"Should we take him to St. Mungo's?" asked Mrs. Weasley quietly.  
  
"It isn't necessary. This is a muggle illness; there is nothing they could do for him there that I couldn't here."  
  
"Will he-" Sirius' voice faltered with emotion, "Will he ~ make it?"  
  
Silence. Nora was looking at him; he could tell. Sirius finally tore his gaze from his godson and met the blue eyes of a woman he knew from an entire lifetime ago.  
  
Her face had aged, but nothing had tarnished the fresh, clean loveliness he remembered from Lily's first bridesmaid (Nora had not been the maid of honor; that privilege had gone to another girl in their dorm named Miranda). Her face was still as pretty as he remembered her, even without make up, and her brown hair was pulled back from her face in a loose bun. Her eyes were giving him that trademark penetrating stare of hers ~ Nora had the amazing ability to look into anyone's eyes and read their hidden emotions; sometimes she could see things in you that you never even realized were there.  
  
"I don't know," she said quietly, trying to control her emotions, "I can't promise you anything. Harry's a strong boy, but there's every possibility… I've never seen a case of pneumonia this bad in one of my patients before."  
  
Mrs. Weasley stifled a sob from behind them. Remus approached carrying an old, spindly chair.  
  
"Here, Sirius," he said quietly, "Sit down."  
  
"I'm going to give him a dose of Cooling potion," said Nora in her professional tone again, "It will almost completely diminish his fever, but the disadvantage is that he cannot take any other potions between now and this time tomorrow. No potions, and that includes a second dose, can be taken within twenty-four hours of administering the Cooling potion." She removed a jar seemingly much too big to fit inside such a small case (A/N: think Mary Poppins) full of a crystal blue liquid.  
  
Harry groaned; Sirius immediately turned his entire attention to the invalid boy, now thrashing about and moaning in his sleep.  
  
"He's having a nightmare," said Nora sharply, "His fever is extremely high. Try to keep him still; I've got to give him the potion."  
  
Harry's arms began to flail and he rolled from side to side on the mattress. Sirius worried for a moment about the poor boy hurting himself, but dare he touch him?  
  
"Help," Harry rasped in his sleep, "Someone help me."  
  
Sirius' heart jumped and at the same time went out to the poor kid. He grasped his godson lightly by his shoulders and very gently shook him. The boy cried out in the same raspy voice and grabbed one of Sirius' wrists in a weak attempt to pry him off.  
  
"Harry," Sirius whispered, leaning close over his godson, "Harry!"  
  
Harry's eyes popped open to reveal the bright green that Lily was once well-known for. They were wide with fear as he watched his godfather without seeing him.  
  
"No!" he rasped, continuing to struggle, "Get away… get off me!"  
  
Sirius let the boy go; for a moment as he sat back the two simply gazed at each other. Sirius out of fearful concern, Harry in pure terror.  
  
"Harry," whispered Sirius, trying to keep the tears from blurring his vision. "Don't you recognize me?"  
  
The boy responded by sitting up so quickly that everyone gasped. Sirius recovered himself in time to keep Harry from attempting to climb out of bed.  
  
"No!" the boy rasped in a heart-wrenching tone, "Let me go! Please… let me go! Someone help… please…" His efforts weakened with the start of a painful sounding coughing fit. Sirius closed his eyes in emotional pain, no longer able to keep out the waves of depression and guilt and sorrow threatening to completely overtake him.  
  
After the horrible coughing had finally stopped and Harry began to struggle again, Sirius felt two more hands take Harry by the arms. Harry gasped and looked directly into Mrs. Weasley's compassionate yet determined face.  
  
*What are you seeing, Harry? * Sirius thought in anguish.  
  
More hands; Remus and Ron were there as well, helping force a struggling Harry back into the bed.  
  
"Hold him!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, as the boy continued to thrash and fight them from his position.  
  
"He's delirious," Nora started to explain calmly, "Keep him as still as you can. I've got to give him this."  
  
"Harry," said Remus, a trace of fear edging into his voice, "Lay down!"  
  
"Stop fighting me!" cried Sirius.  
  
"Calm down," said Nora, "It won't help anything. It's not your fault. Stop shouting. He's hallucinating, but he can hear you."  
  
She somehow managed to weave between the four others holding Harry down, and pushed a goblet containing the blue potion directly to Harry's lips. The boy turned his head away; she persisted. After a moment of awkward struggling, she suddenly took his jaw in her hand, forced his lips and teeth to part and poured the blue liquid into his mouth.  
  
The struggling stopped. As everyone let go of their hold on him, Harry's features relaxed and he gave nothing short of a contented sigh. Sirius' heart began to lift; it's pounding rate slowing just slightly.  
  
"It's working," said Nora softly. Sirius could tell that she, too had been worked up by the confusion, despite her experience in the medical field.  
  
"That poor boy," whispered Mrs. Weasley. Tears were streaming down her face. "I knew it. Something was wrong. We would have come for him earlier, but after our ordeal with the muggles last year Arthur wanted to be very careful." She bent her head. "We shouldn't have waited. We should have come for him sooner."  
  
Sirius was about to mention his mirroring emotions when Harry slowly pried his eyes into a deep squint. No one moved for a moment. The boy's lips parted and moved wordlessly.  
  
"Harry," whispered Mrs. Weasley, stroking his forehead as she would her own son. Harry did not respond. His eyes closed and his breathing returned to the even, raspy rhythm; his head fell a bit to the side and he was still. 


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters associated with him, except for Dr. Nora Tallahand. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. I just use them for my own amusement. I am not making any money off of this. No infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: I am REALLY REALLY sorry that I didn't get this up sooner. It took a LOT longer than I expected it to. I'm SOOO sorry! Will you forgive me if I promise to get the next chapter out in the next few days? Please? I'm trying here.  
  
Candy: Actually, if you read The Last Straw, (the prequel/sister story to this one, from Harry's POV) you will read exactly what Harry saw while he was hallucinating. Yeah, you find out what happens too, but from a completely different viewpoint.  
  
Sweets: It seems confusing to keep switching back and forth into and out of Sirius' memories. I'll most likely go back to the present after the entire story is over. I'm going to write an epilogue for this one too. It won't be from Sirius or Harry's POV, but I'm not saying more there. (Hint: Someone we haven't seen yet.)  
  
Tidmag and Gen Raid: I'm sure Harry would appreciate the gifts, as soon as he's well enough to eat chocolate, that is. Poor kid. Dumbeldore is most likely going to make an appearance, but Snape sends his regrets ~ he can't come because he's still on his mission for Dumbeldore. Oh yeah, and if you read The Last Straw, you'll find out what Sirius did to the Dursley's.  
  
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Sirius grasped Harry's clammy hand in both of his own. His even breathing rhythm had returned, it's raspy grunts sending daggers straight into Sirius' heart. Mrs. Weasley continued to stroke the boy's forehead, not bothering to wipe away the tears that streamed down her cheeks and fell to her faded robes.  
  
Ron said nothing as he crept silently to the position behind his mother next to the bed. He seemed too stunned to cry, but the fearful spark and the waves of emotion pouring from behind his young brown eyes said it all.  
  
Nora stepped back from the bed to allow Sirius and the Weasleys more room. She looked to Remus, and when she spoke her voice was nothing less than polite and steady.  
  
"If you would be so kind, could you retrieve for us a goblet of water, and a bowl with cool water and a cloth? And an extra blanket, if you have one."  
  
Remus nodded and left the room. He returned in a few moments; Nora smiled in polite thanks and set the goblet and bowl on the bedside table in front of Sirius. The convicted murderer didn't lift his eyes from his godson, even when he felt Nora's hand on his shoulder.  
  
"He'll need someone to stay by his side every minute, day and night," she said, though knowing that among everyone in the room at the moment, it was surely not going to be a problem. "Do you know how to read his temperature off of his wristband?"  
  
"I do," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Good. His temperature will rise as time passes, but it is very important that he be given no magical potions between now and tomorrow. Any tea, any broth you make for him, if he wakes you can give him some ~ muggle herbs have been known to be quite effective on some maladies ~ but no magic-based ingredients can be used."  
  
"I understand," said Mrs. Weasley. "I can make chicken broth for him; after seven children I certainly know how to do it."  
  
"Thank you. There is nothing more I can do for him at the moment. If something happens to him, summon me with this," she held out an emerald colored crystal for Sirius to take, "and I'll apparate here instantly. Wipe his face with the cloth if he seems uncomfortably warm ~ you may want to give him a bath if his fever climbs too high. I'm going to leave the extra blanket at the end of the bed; in case of fever chills you will want to perform the Thermiticus Charm on it to warm him. I'll return tomorrow morning if nothing happens between now and then."  
  
Sirius nodded. He refused to look up even though he knew that the Doctor was looking directly at him. Her manner hadn't changed in fourteen years. She still knew exactly what to say; to comfort people as much as was possible in this situation. She had not, as most would have been wont to do in her position, offered consoling words to assure him that everything was going to be okay; that Harry was a strong boy and would pull through; that she would do everything she could for him. For had she done so, Sirius would not have been able to keep it together. He would have broken down and let loose the bottled pain and anguish and would not be able to care for his own godson. He admired her for that trait.  
  
"What about his head?" asked Remus.  
  
Nora frowned. "It's only a minor concussion; it seems severe because of his illness. Possibly the blows to his head were what escalated the pneumonia to this level." Her frown lingered as she gazed around the room into the anxious faces and finally let her eyes rest upon the slumbering boy. Her curt and professional mask softened at the pained frown on his lips to reveal a sad glint in her eye, a pity she had been trying to conceal.  
  
With one last comforting squeeze to Sirius' shoulder she turned and began to move towards the door. Mrs. Weasley's voice stopped her part way there.  
  
"Is there anything more we can do for him?"  
  
Nora wore a distant expression on her soft features.  
  
"I was born to an entirely muggle family," she said, "And I grew up attending church. I don't know if there is a religion for witches and wizards, but if you believe in any sort of God, I suggest you pray to him. We may need His help right now."  
  
Remus stood at the door, his back to the peeling wall. Nora at first made a move as though to embrace him, but after a moment thought the better of it. Any other time their awkward but polite exchange of good byes would have brought an amused smile to Sirius' face, but as of now he was too engrossed in caring for his invalid godson to really take notice.  
  
No one spoke for a very long time after she had gone. The air itself settled into a timid silence, as though worried about making a sound around the boy. Sirius did everything Nora had told him, devoting himself whole- heartedly to Harry's care. Though the boy remained in his deep slumber as the afternoon faded away into dusk, Sirius and the Weasley's refused to leave the bedside. When he groaned in his sleep, writhing and stirring under the sheets from his fever, Sirius was there, pressing the cloth to his forehead as Mrs. Weasley took back the sheets. When he shook with violent chills someone was always there to enchant the blankets and warm the poor boy as best they could.  
  
Ron seemed able to do nothing but sit and watch his best friend in shock and disbelief. For hours on end ~ much longer than he or any boy his age would have been able to manage otherwise ~ he sat behind his mother and did not move.  
  
Remus left the room only to owl Dumbeldore and to bring in supper for Sirius and the Weasleys. He of everyone was the least emotional; though Sirius noticed that a certain fire from his friend's gray eyes seemed to have gone. He said nothing while his served them, but his hands were quite steady in setting four bowls of soup on four wooden trays, floating above the ground at exactly the right height.  
  
Mrs. Weasley ate but half of the bowl; Ron took only a few bites and Sirius ate nothing. The poor, tormented man stirred the soft yellow broth absently, refusing to take his eyes from his godson's rosy cheeks or his free hand from Harry's clammy one.  
  
When she appeared to have eaten her fill, Mrs. Weasley rose slowly from her seat and leaned forward to place a hand delicately on Harry's forehead. She brushed his bangs from his forehead and let her palm rest on his fever-flushed cheek.  
  
"We really should be going, Remus," she said softly. Tears began to leak from her eyes again. "Thank you for dinner. Would it be all right ~ would you mind if Ron and I returned in the morning?"  
  
"Not at all, Molly," the werewolf replied quietly, "You're welcome here. Harry will want to see you if he wakes up before then."  
  
*If he wakes up before then. * Sirius shut his eyes and bowed his head. With every passing hour his hopes of Harry's smooth recovery had fallen farther into the pits of despair. He wanted nothing more in the world than to watch the boy simply open his eyes, to catch a glimpse of Lily's trademark green, instead of letting the owner slip away through his fingers, once again by nobody's fault but his own.  
  
Mrs. Weasley gave Harry one last kiss on the forehead. Ron turned to Sirius and Remus.  
  
"Would it be all right if I owled Hermione?" he asked. "She's been worried ~ Harry hasn't answered any of her letters either."  
  
Remus nodded. "Go ahead. She has a right to know."  
  
Ron nodded; both of the men caught a glimpse of the mist that had begun to gather in the boy's eyes before he hastily turned his head. He rubbed his eyes frantically, following his mother to the hearth in the next room.  
  
"Poor kid," said Remus quietly after the *whoosh * of fire had told them that he and his mother had gone.  
  
Sirius couldn't be quite sure if his friend was referring to Ron, or Harry. He decided not to ask.  
  
The grave silence returned. Remus took in a breath after a moment and broke it.  
  
"Sirius," he said firmly, "You need to eat. Come on, I'm not that bad of a cook."  
  
His attempt at humor was squelched by the somberness in the atmosphere. Sirius did not acknowledge it.  
  
"I mean it, Sirius," Remus persisted. "At least take a bite or two. You can't help Harry by starving yourself. Eat."  
  
Sirius obeyed, if only to keep his friend quiet. The soup had by then turned stone cold, it felt bland and tasteless in his mouth and slipped down his throat like cold slime. Sirius resisted the urge to gag ~ strange, Remus was usually a wonderful cook.  
  
"There's no need for both of us to stay here all night," Sirius said gruffly. "You can go to bed. I'll watch him."  
  
"We'll stay up in shifts," replied Remus, "You can watch him while I sleep and I'll stay up while you-"  
  
"I'm not leaving him," Sirius interrupted.  
  
"Sirius-"  
  
"I'm," Sirius said loudly, "Not. Leaving. Him." He turned his head and looked Remus square in the eyes, his jaw set.  
  
Remus shook his head and sighed. "Fine. Just wake me up if anything happens. If you get tired and change your mind, come and get me, okay?"  
  
Sirius looked away.  
  
"Sirius? I want your word on this."  
  
"Fine." Said Harry's godfather shortly.  
  
Moony exited the room without another word; Sirius was left alone with his slumbering godson and the room returned to its gloomy silence. 


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: I don't own Harry Potter or anyone associated with him. Everyone in this story except for Dr. Nora Tallahand belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I'm just using them for my own amusement. No infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry for the wait I just completely lost my desire to write for what? Two/three weeks? Then, all of a sudden, it just came back to me. I apologize profusely for those of you I kept waiting, and I PROMISE that the chapters will come up more quickly after this! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!  
  
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Sirius opened a bleary eye and squinted against the bright sun. It took a moment to register the sight of his slumbering godson before he sat bolt upright and cursed himself for falling asleep.  
  
The pale light of the early morning sunrise illuminated the room. A patch of it lay across Harry's face on the bed, adding golden to his rosy cheeks and pasty forehead. Sirius took up the wand on the bedside table and absently drew the curtain.  
  
"How is he?" asked a voice from the doorway.  
  
Sirius did not look up. He shrugged dully. "No change. I think his fever's gone up."  
  
"Nora should be here in another few hours," Remus replied. "We can't give him the cooling potion until then."  
  
"I know."  
  
Sirius felt a hand on his shoulder. "We're doing all we can for him. You mustn't blame yourself."  
  
"All we can for him?" Sirius demanded sharply. "This-" he gestured to the boy on the bed, "is doing 'all we can for him'? A pretty lousy job on my part, if you ask me."  
  
"This isn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done."  
  
"I'm his godfather for heaven's sake!" Sirius cried. "There *has * to be something I could have done for him! It's my duty; the one James entrusted in me! I promised him I'd take care of Harry, and now look at him. This is my fault. If I'd only been there, like I promised, when my own godson needed me the most, we wouldn't be in this mess."  
  
"Think that all you want to, Sirius," came Remus's calm reply, "But no matter what you tell yourself, nothing that happened is entirely your fault. You couldn't be here for Harry because you were spending time in Azkaban for a crime you didn't commit. You know that. I know that. Harry knows that. *James * knows that for god's sake. You haven't done anything wrong except unjustly blaming yourself."  
  
"How do you know they feel that way?" replied Sirius darkly. "Thanks to me you can't exactly ask Harry in the state he's, and thanks to me again, neither of us has been able to ask James anything for nearly fourteen years now."  
  
"I refuse to argue with you, Sirius. No one in this room holds you accountable for anything except trusting in the wrong person at the wrong time. Now, I'm going to contact Professor Dumbeldore and update him as I had promised. Molly and Ron will probably show up in an hour or so. I'll prepare breakfast and check back in."  
  
Sirius nodded, never removing his hard stare from Harry's unmoving form on the bed.  
  
* * *  
  
The twinkling light in Dumbeldore's eyes had completely disappeared when the older wizard apparated into Remus's living room. The only words he spoke was a nearly silent, "Show me to him, Remus," dulled greatly in tone by the heavy grief that visibly weighed on the older man's shoulders and made him seem every bit as old as he was.  
  
Dr. Tallahand and the two Weasleys were already sitting around Harry's bed when Dumbeldore entered the room.  
  
"How is he, Nora?" the elderly wizard asked gravely.  
  
"Nora stood up from next to Sirius and allowed the Hogwarts headmaster to sit. "Not much better, professor. I gave the boy a second dose of cooling potion a few minutes ago. I had to administer it by magic; the poor boy wouldn't wake up when I tried go give it to him normally."  
  
Dumbeldore's eyes traveled to the large goblet and the empty jar sitting on a lone dresser in the corner of the room. "You gave him a lot of it?"  
  
"I've had to. It needs to last him an entire day, until I can give him a second dose. I've no use for the jar now. It's got an unbreakable charm on it just in case; if anyone thinks they could make something useful of it feel free to take it."  
  
No one replied, and the room settled itself into the usual grave silence, which was a few minutes later pierced by an anguished moaning. Harry turned his head this way and that on the pillow, twisting his ashen face into expressions of fright and pain. His trembling hand moved to the scar on his forehead. Everyone in the room took in a sharp breath as one.  
  
"Is he delirious?" asked Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Nora shook her head, taking his struggling wrist in hand and checking the numbers on the white band. "His temperature is too low for that. This is more of a nightmare of sorts."  
  
"Voldemort," said Sirius with a venomous hatred in his sharp tone.  
  
"That may be," replied Nora as the boy continued to struggle with the bed sheets. "I have no way of knowing."  
  
"Harry," Sirius said loudly to his godson, "Harry, wake up!" He was unable to conceal the fear in his voice. He felt a thin, frail hand on his shoulder.  
  
"It's all right, Harry," said Professor Dumbeldore without loosening his grip. "It's just a dream."  
  
"Wake up," Mrs. Weasley placed a hand on the boy's forehead. "Come now, it's okay. You're all right now."  
  
She and Sirius began to shake him ever so gently. Harry groaned in response. His face continued to twitch as he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. His lips parted and moved without saying anything; his teeth were chattering too violently for any proper words to come from them.  
  
Sirius felt his heart melt as Harry's painful movements turned from uncomfortable stirring to violent shivering, and finally to a coughing fit that was agony just to listen to. Sirius closed his eyes and let every bit of the pain and anguish sink to the very bottom of his soul. If Harry had to suffer through this, the least he could do as a godfather was join him and feel it too.  
  
The horrible coughing stopped, and Harry moaned pitifully.  
  
"Poor guy," whispered Ron sadly. "Is he still awake?"  
  
"Yes," replied Nora. "He can hear you speaking to him. Be comforting, let him know we're here to protect him. He needs a lot of TLC right about now."  
  
As she spoke she picked up the worn blanked from the end of the bed and touched its surface with her wand tip.  
  
"Thermiticus," she whispered. The blanket began to glow a pale reddish-orange. Mrs. Weasley pulled it up to Harry's chin, running her hand softly over his forehead and cheek. Her eyes began to fill with tears.  
  
"It's all right," she murmured gently. "It's all right, Harry dear. You're safe now."  
  
A weak but contented sigh escaped Harry's chapped lips. His weak body relaxed, and Sirius's heart lifted at the tiniest hint of a smile that peeked at them from behind the boy's sickly white features.  
  
"Go back to sleep now, Harry," he said, unable to hide the concern in his voice. "Get some rest. We'll be right here when you wake up."  
  
His godson sighed quietly once more before he relaxed and settled into the familiar, even breathing rhythm.  
  
Sirius felt hot tears sting his eyes. He looked to the floor and tried to keep them from running down his waxy cheeks. Why couldn't he do something more to ease Harry's sufferings? Fat lot of good he was doing the boy now, just sitting here, blubbering like some weak baby.  
  
"How long has he been like this?" asked Dumbeldore softly.  
  
"A little more than a day, now," Nora replied. "There is nothing we can do for him in this state. All we can do is hope and wait."  
  
No one dared look each other in the eye after that. Their thoughts were the same; that a boy with Harry's painful history did not deserve this on top of everything else. That Harry was a strong boy and could take care of himself, but this was just too much for one teenage boy to handle. It simply wasn't fair.  
  
Sirius brushed Harry's sweaty, dark bangs off his forehead and gazed at his lightning scar, the only thing to remain bright and vivid on the boy's illness-stricken face.  
  
*Oh, Harry, * he thought in anguish. *If only you could see how many people are here rooting for you. Please return to us. Please. *  
  
*We're waiting for you. * 


End file.
